Caveman

“And normally I wouldn’t mind,” Cassie says.

I struggle to follow. “You wouldn’t mind being a one-night stand for Jesse?”

“Exactly. I wouldn’t mind.” Her voice has gone a little husky, and her eyes glitter. I can’t read the emotions in them. “But I can’t. Not with him. There’s something about him that won’t let me.”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s cracked, like a glass that looks whole, but if you press it too hard it will shatter,” she whispers, and a shudder runs through me.

Because Micah also seemed ready to break this morning, and the things he said about his past are lurking in a corner of my mind, waiting for me to examine them. Darkness, pain, sorrow. It hurts to know he’s been through that, and yet I’m happy he trusted me enough to tell me.

I want to see him again this afternoon. Tonight. I want to talk to Asher’s mom about working with homeless youth. I’ve checked the site of the National Runaway Switchboard online and I can start as a volunteer, then later take courses and work there. I want this. And I want to put Blake and the accident behind me.

“I want to move out of my parents’ house,” I blurt out.

“Whoa. Moving in with Micah already? Isn’t it too soon?”

“No, not with Micah.” Although the thought sends a thrill through me… But he hasn’t asked, and it’s way, way too early to even think about something like that. “I just need to move out.”

“I see. Looking to share an apartment? ’Cuz I may have something.”

“You do?”

“One of my friends is looking for someone to share her apartment with. She’s great. You’ll love her. She lives close by.”

I smile. It’s a good sign, isn’t it, if luck is smiling my way. “Let me talk to my parents, and I’ll let you know.”



My parents stare at me in disbelief when I break them the news.

“You want to move out? For heaven’s sake, why?” my dad roars.

Oh, crap, it’s going worse than I thought it would, and Joel is nowhere to be seen. I could use the support right now.

“I need my space,” I say quietly. “I have—”

“Why, so you can sleep around? Or to spend time with all the losers on the street and spend every penny until you become one of them?”

“John,” Mom says. Even she sounds horrified at his words.

Not more than me, though. My stomach hurts as if he’s punched me there. “Is that how you think of me?”

“Come on, Evie.” He rolls his eyes and gives me a withering look. “If you don’t want people to think of you that way, then act responsible. Like the adult you pretend to be.”

Ow.

“Listen to your dad, Evie,” Mom chimes in. “He wants what’s best for you, and you’re not doing anything meaningful with your life.”

“Oh, for chrissakes. I finished school. I got a job. I almost never go out. What are these ‘adult things’ you expect from me?” My voice cracks and all I want is to run out of the room and hide. There’s a lot of hurt inside me. No matter what I do, it will never be enough for my parents. “What else do you want?”

“I want you to stay home where it’s safe for you,” Dad says, and tendons stand out in his throat. “To think seriously about what you want to do with your life and start doing it.”

“I have thought seriously about what I want to do.” I’m leaning forward in my chair, every muscle taut. My jaw aches from the tension. “I want to work with homeless youth. There’s someone I’m going to talk to—”

“Are you out of your mind?” Dad snaps, just as Mom mutters, “This isn’t going to end well.”

“This is what I want! There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There’s lots wrong with that. Lots!” Dad gets up and looms over me. “This isn’t what your mom and I worked our asses off for, so you could have a nice house, and nice clothes, and a chance to go to college. You’re throwing away all our efforts, all these years lost—”

“I’m not throwing anything away.” I inch back in my seat, but anger pushes down my fear. “I just want to do what makes me happy. I’m not going to feel guilty about that.”

“You listen to me now, young lady…” Dad bends over me and jabs a finger at my chest. I flinch and fear returns. He’s a big man, and I’m tiny, like Mom. I’ve never been afraid of him before, but he’s so angry spit flies out of his mouth, and my blood runs cold.

Dad won’t hit me, I tell myself. He never has. But when he grabs my arm, gripping me painfully tight, I can’t help but think that Blake also never hit me, and yet he’s held me like this, bruising me, forcing me to stay when all I want is to leave.

“John, stop it,” Mom says, and I think I hear fear in her voice, as well.

“Dad, let her go right now,” a male voice says.

Dad jerks and releases me so that I fall back in the seat, my breath leaving my lungs.

Joel is standing there, a hand gripping Dad’s arm. His blue eyes glitter with anger. “Don’t you touch her again.”

“You don’t get to order me around, Joey,” Dad mutters, but he walks away from me and shoves his hands into the pockets of his black pants. “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

“You already have,” Joel says and glances at me uncertainly.

“I’m okay,” I say, my voice small, but the truth is, I’m not. Not because of the ache in my arm, but a deeper one.

I can’t stay here a moment longer. But when I try to get up, my legs refuse to take my weight, and I sink back down.

Joel holds out his hand. “Come on, Evie.”

He helps me up, and I stand by his side. Dad is giving me his back, and Mom is staring at me with tears in her eyes as if I’m dying or something.

“I’ll visit you,” I say, mostly because I can’t stand to see her so sad. “I’m not going far, Mom.”

She says nothing.

“She’ll be fine,” Joel says. And with that, he pulls me out of the room and into the cold night air.



Joel doesn’t say much else that night. He drives me to his apartment, which he shares with his ever-absent friend Jethro, and throws some folded sheets on the couch.

“You take my bed,” he says, “I’ll take the sofa.”

He must be kidding me. I don’t even want to know what action his bed has seen since he moved out of our parent’s house three years ago. “I’ll be fine on the couch, Joey.” I see a new frown forming on his face and grab the sheets to forestall an argument. “Honest. Thanks for standing up for me and taking me in. I wanted…”

He’s staring at me, and suddenly I don’t know what I want to say. The reality of it all hits me. I’ve left home. I’m on my own for the first time ever.

“You can stay for a while,” Joel says. “Jethro won’t mind.”

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